


Keeping Warm

by Persiflage



Series: Domesticity with Porn [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Huddling For Warmth, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Porn with Feelings, Rain, Wet Clothing, wet skoulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy and Coulson are forced to huddle together for warmth and it's not their first time doing this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> Written for the Domesticity prompt: keeping the other person warm. Of course that automatically translates to 'get Skoulson wet and then naked before they get warm'. (The Skoulson fandom has trained me well.)

"You know, Phil, this is getting to be a habit," Daisy says as he eases her gauntlets off. "You sure Fitz hasn't knocked up a weather device for you?"

He smirks at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Twice is hardly a habit," he points out as he sets her gauntlets aside. "And no, I don't have a device for controlling the weather – the sudden cloudburst and subsequent torrential downpour were pure bad luck."

"And I suppose it was also bad luck that Lola broke down?" she asks lightly.

His expression sobers. "Very bad luck."

She nods, realising that even joking about Lola breaking down is a touchy subject for him. She helps him peel off his sodden suit jacket before she slips his tie from around his neck, then wrestles with his shirt, which is practically transparent at the front, it's so wet.

He shivers, and she gives him a sympathetic look.

"Here," she says, and gently pulls his body closer to hers; she doesn't embrace him because she's still wearing her rain-soaked fieldsuit, but she circles her arms around him, then begins to gently vibrate the air around his body.

"Daisy," he gasps, clearly awed, as the air in his immediate vicinity begins to warm up by a couple of degrees, which in turns warms him up too. The look on his face is the one he often gets – it says, _You can tear continents apart, but you're doing something small and kind for me instead._ Not that he _expects_ her to tear apart continents, but he knows the way she still worries, sometimes, about how powerful she is, and about the fact that the Kree designed her and her people to be weapons.

So she's not very surprised when he reaches up and cups her face in his palms, then kisses her, his tongue sliding easily into her mouth, before he pulls back to help her peel off the jacket of her field suit, then the tank that's beneath it.

His eyes go dark when he sees she's not wearing a bra, and the way he's clearly restraining himself from getting his hands on her breasts warms her a little. She knows how much he loves her breasts (in truth, there's no part of her body he doesn't love – as he's made very clear on many occasions).

"Pants," she says, distracting him from his almost worshipful study of her body. He nods, letting her open the belt on his suit pants before she unbuttons and unzips, then tugs down both his pants and his boxers. He's not even half-hard, but that doesn't surprise her – he's probably too cold right now.

He helps her out of her own pants and the panties she's wearing beneath them, and his expression goes all worshipful again as he sighs out her name.

"Phil." She grabs his hand and they climb, one after another, into the sleeping bags they'd brought with them from Lola's trunk. This rustic cabin in the woods isn't supplied with a bed, or even a mattress, but it's intact and relatively waterproof, which will have to suffice for now.

"I guess we're going to have to huddle for warmth," Coulson says, his tone ever so casual.

Daisy snorts. "Yeah, Phil, like you weren't already planning on doing just that. That's how this all got started," she reminds him. 

He smirks, and she wonders if he's remembering a trip, four months ago, to see a very unfriendly Inhuman who, for reasons that still eluded her, had lived in a cabin almost as rustic as this one. She'd never found out what the man's powers were – he'd set his dogs on them before she'd got out more three sentences of explanation for their presence, and they'd been chased into a ravine where they'd fallen down a very muddy bank into a river. They'd dragged themselves out and taken shelter in what was basically a crude hut, and Coulson had insisted that they needed to strip off their wet and muddy clothes or risk hypothermia. Daisy had obeyed, less embarrassed about being almost naked in front of him than she was about them huddling together for warmth. That was too much like certain of her fantasies for her to be easy in her mind at the prospect. Despite that, she'd spooned up with him, her arms carefully wrapped across his chest, but they'd woken a few hours later facing each other, their bodies tangled together, and Coulson's cock rock hard against her thigh. She'd expected him to apologise and pull away, but he'd kissed her instead, and then they'd had sex – and not just once. Early in the proceedings, he'd confessed – as he put it – that he'd desired her for a long time, so she'd admitted that she had basically fancied him ever since their first meeting.

"Lie on your side," she tells him, rolling her eyes at his obvious amusement at her comment, and when he obeys, she spoons up behind him, pressing her chest to his back. She slides her hands down his body, pausing to tweak his nipples before her hands slip onto his thighs.

She allows the knuckles of her right hand to brush lightly against his balls and the base of his cock, and he groans her name as she curls her hand around his cock, which rapidly thickens and lengthens until he's rock hard in her hand.

She begins stroking him properly and he moans her name when she flicks her thumb over the head of his cock, but then he grabs her wrist and pulls her hand off his dick before manoeuvring himself onto his back.

"C'mere," he says huskily, and pulls her body on top of his, a somewhat awkward move inside the confines of their sleeping bags. His left hand slips between her thighs and she moans his name as he eases two fingers inside her, then begins stroking her, even as his mouth latches onto hers.

It only takes a few minutes for him to finger her to an orgasm, and she pulls her mouth from his to gasp for breath because it's a more intense climax than she's used to experiencing.

"Okay?" he asks, his fingers still buried inside her throbbing pussy.

"Yeah, Phil, I'm okay" she mumbles, then kisses him hard.

He grunts and she wonders if she's imagining it, or if his cock really is thickening even more beneath her body. Then he resumes fingerfucking her, and she moans very loudly when he pushes a third finger into her slick heat.

"Oh fuck, Phil."

He grins at her, wrapping his other arm over her lower back to hold her body against his as he works her to a second, even more intense, orgasm that leaves her panting heavily, her forehead pressed against his.

"I need you inside me – now," she tells him once she's caught enough of her breath to speak.

"Yeah, Daisy."

She arches her lower body and he slides his fingers out of her, replacing them with his thick prick. They both groan as he fills her up.

"Can I – ?" he begins, then gasps when she tightens her muscles around him.

"You wanna be on top?" she asks, and gets an eager nod in return.

They roll themselves over, and he leans on his forearms as he begins to fuck her in earnest. She moves with him, her hips arching up to meet his thrusts, and she comes twice in quick succession before he finally climaxes himself. He rolls himself sideways off her and onto his back so that he doesn’t squash her, and she wraps her body around his.

"I'm not cold now," he tells her, and she chuckles.

"Glad to hear that, Phil," she says, and gives him a quick kiss, then rests her head on his shoulder, her right hand over his heart. As sleep begins to steal over her she finds herself hoping they can fix whatever's wrong with Lola in the morning – they've too much work to do back at the base to spend days trapped out here in the Middle of Nowhere, Wyoming.


End file.
